


Awareness

by Peskychloe



Series: Awareness [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, DJ ennoshita, Deaf Character, Deaf ennoshita, First Date, M/M, flirting dorks, speed awareness, youth clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-08 13:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14106030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peskychloe/pseuds/Peskychloe
Summary: “Pillock,” Chikara said under his breath. It took about twenty seconds of following him towards the same door for him to realise they were probably going to the same place. Someone like that was bound to get a speeding ticket.--Chikara meets someone irritating on a speed awareness course.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In case they don't do this where you live - in the UK if you get a speeding ticket (and haven't had one in the last three years and you aren't too far over the speed limit) you get offered a 'speed awareness' course. Guess who went on one last week?

Chikara was fuming.

The whole way to the community centre, the same car had followed him, always a little too close, as if not knowing where you are was more of an offence than breaking the speed limit.

“I'm doing 28!” he shouted into the rear view mirror, as if the nobhead behind him could hear. “Get out of my arse!”

He almost missed the turning, preoccupied with his pursuer, but managed to swing into the car park of the Al-Hikmah centre. Before he arrived, he had no idea what to expect, but now he could see the imposing grey building, pointed hats on the corner towers, he could only think what a waste it was of a beautiful structure; this place deserved more than conferences, occasional baby yoga sessions, and speeding awareness courses.

Chikara could do so much with this place, given half a chance. Maybe he'd talk to the manager while he was here.

Thinking about the possibilities distracted him from the fact the idiot from the road had driven in behind him and parked next to him. He only noticed when he opened the door of his own blue Audi – top in all the safety tests, dark enough to not show the dirt – and almost hit the VW Golf – shiny alloy wheel trims, furry seat covers, racing spoiler across the bonnet.

“Woah! Careful there,” the nobhead said, lifting his sunglasses to rest on top of the baseball hat he wore. There was no anger in his voice, even though Chikara had almost chipped the obnoxious yellow paint job. “Almost got me!” he added brightly, swerving his hips between their wing mirrors and tripping off towards the imposing wooden door.

“Pillock,” Chikara said under his breath. It took about twenty seconds of following him towards the same door for him to realise they were probably going to the same place. Someone like that was bound to get a speeding ticket.

Anyone he mentioned his speeding ticket to, and it had only been a couple of them because he knew the others would all mercilessly tease him, had all been surprised. Narita had claimed it impossible since Chikara drove like an old lady, while Kinoshita had wondered whether Tanaka had borrowed Chikara's car without asking.

So when they offered a course instead of a fine, obviously he agreed – trouble was, he'd forgotten it was a busy week, and he could really have done with working at home.

He'd get a table at the back, take out a notebook, and quietly make notes. That was the solution. He'd never coasted along while he was at school, but he knew why he'd been speeding, knew it was wrong, and there was nothing to be gained from listening to what he already knew. He was just too busy for that this week.

He wasn't like the nobhead in the yellow car, who'd probably been going over ninety. Chikara had only been doing six miles an hour over the limit, on a road that everyone gets tickets on. This whole day was a waste of his time.

–

“Oh hey!” The one remaining chair in the room was pushed out from under the table with a clean white trainer. “Saved ya a seat.”

Chikara took another look around the room to check he really was fated to sit on the offered seat, on a table in the middle of the room next to the nobhead. Sighing, he pulled it slightly towards the back of the room and settled into it, taking his notebook out of his bag. There were pens on the table, but he still took his own out, followed by a bottle of water and his glasses, placed on the table in an orderly fashion. Once he was happy, he put his hands in his laps and looked down at them, waiting for the ordeal to begin.

It began with the driver of the yellow car asking, “What's ya name?” Without the cap, his hair was blonde and he looked a lot less like a nobhead, but he was still an irritant.

Chikara blinked his eyes slowly, and looked up. “What?”

“We've got to write our names on these,” he said, pushing a page of labels over with a green marker pen. “See?” He tapped the label stuck on his own chest. “I'm Yuuji.”

“I can read,” Chikara said, writing his own name on a label and attaching it to his blazer.

“Chikara. Cool,” Yuuji said peering at the label, ignoring any sarcasm directed at him. “So, how fast were you going?”

“What?”

“Sorry, am I not talking loud enough?” Yuuji asked, raising his voice a little, “I asked how fast you were driving.”

“Thirty-six,” he replied putting his glasses on and picking up his pen. Being mean hadn't worked; maybe if he looked busy, the nobhead would be quiet.

“Ah, that's bad luck! I was doing eighty. On the motorway. Got carried away with my music, before I knew it I saw the camera and thought eeeek.” He mimed driving and slamming his brakes on, the final sound effect causing the rest of the room to look at him. “Too late.”

A woman with a lot of eyeliner on the other side of the table turned to join in. “I was rushing to pick up my little girl from school. Silly really!”

The smile Yuuji gave her was sympathetic, its warmth spreading through the rest of their companions, who all joined in with their own tales of woe.

“I was late for work,” said the young Asian woman in a scarf.

“Me too!” said a young man with terrible facial hair.

“I can't even remember the day, never mind why I was speeding,” said the final woman with glasses and a grey bob.

To each Yuuji flashed a smile and offered understanding, and Chikara became more annoyed as he waited to be dragged into it, despite writing notes about nothing as he listened.

“What about you?” Yuuji finally asked.

Chikara looked up, was hit full face by his party popper smile, and was helpless to resist. “I was rushing home before my lamb shanks defrosted.”

“That is, without a doubt, the best reason I've ever heard for speeding.” His face had somehow split even further open with mirth. “You win, Chikara.” He poked Chikara's name label, before leaning back in his chair with one foot up on a knee.

Chikara folded his glasses up again, and shut his notebook, defeated. “They weren't even very nice lamb shanks.”

Yuuji nudged him and made a pffft sound, nodding his head at the front of the room. “They're starting, don't be a delinquent or they might not let you off the fine.”

–

The presenters were friendly, non-judgemental, and made Chikara feel like the biggest piece of shit for being so blasé about speeding in the first place.

Just before the promised break, they'd been shown a video which had made everyone shuffle in their seat in embarrassment, look away, or scrabble in their handbags as they tried to hide a sniffle. Yuuji had pulled a packet of tissues from his pocket and wordlessly handed them to the grey-haired woman; he waved away her thanks with his hand, waved again when the woman labelled Anne asked if she could have one to sort out her eyeliner.

“Y'alright?” Yuuji was looking at him, head on one side and furrowed brow. “I'm gonna get coffee, want one?”

Chikara looked up with a start. He'd been moved by the video as much as everyone else, but had hidden it as always behind his fringe and a sip from his glass of water. “Urm, no. Thank you.”

“I'll refill this,” Yuuji said as he stood up, picking up the jug from the centre of the table and taking it with him. He caught Chikara watching him and responded with a sympathetic smile.

It didn't take long for him to return, but Chikara made sure to look busy when he did so. Trouble was he wasn't even sure he  _wanted_ to be ignored any more. The annoyance he'd felt two hours before had been wiped away as easily as Anne's eyeliner, and not succumbing to the easy company seating next to him was more effort than it was worth.

Not for the first time that day, he was reminded of school. He wasn't sure if it was more the imposing building, sitting in groups around small tables, or merely being lectured at; but having Yuuji sitting next to him, a laugh not far from his throat, knees and elbows not far enough from Chikara's, was exactly the same as being back with Tanaka.

“D'ya want half of this?” Yuuji said, shoving the open end of a Twix packet at Chikara. 

“Oh. No, thanks.”

“S'fine. I got this 'cause it's easy to share.” Before Chikara could refuse again, Yuuji interrupted with, “C'mon, treat yourself. I won't take no for an answer.”

Usually, Chikara hated being told what to do. It was the reason for the end of his last two relationships, why things were so strained with his parents, and no doubt why he got sacked from his job at that factory. But usually the orders weren't for something so innocuous and delivered with such charm. There was really no harm in eating a bar of chocolate, was there?

He slipped a finger from the packet, thanked him quietly, and took a small bite. Yuuji took the remaining one and bit it in half.

“You know,” he said through a mouthful of biscuit, “You never see people eating a Twix do you? I can't remember the last time I had a Twix. Or even _saw_ one. But they must sell okay, mustn't they? 'Cause they've been making them for years.” He finished the biscuit and wiped his hands together. “Why have they never made other flavours? You'd think with the salted caramel craze they'd have been on that bandwagon.”

Swallowing his first bite, Chikara brushed the corner of his mouth. “I've never given it much thought to be honest.”

“They should try orange ones. Or mint.” He turned to Chikara quickly. “Do you remember those things they used to sell? They were...ya know. Triangles. With mint in.”

“Do you mean Pyramints?”

“Yes! God, I loved those.” He tutted and his shoulders drooped. “Why did they stop making them, Chikara?” He sounded annoyed, and Chikara was torn between wanting to laugh and being unsure if Yuuji actually might get angry if he did.

“I don't...”

“D'ya think it's the Illuminati? 'Cause it's a pyramid? Most things are their fault.”

Chikara peered at him, still unsure, until he caught a flash of teasing in Yuuji's eye and a miniscule raising of one side of his mouth. “I'm almost certain the Illuminati have their fingers in the confectionery business,” Chikara said with mock sincerity.

Yuuji hummed to himself with laughter as he stood up to put the wrapper in the bin. Everyone else had started filing back into the room by now, and Yuuji nodded or smiled at everyone he passed, even when they didn't look at him. When Yuuji caught Chikara staring for a second time, the smile changed from sympathetic to curious, and once back at the table he moved his chair a little before sitting in it. They'd already been close enough, but now he could feel the heat from Yuuji's arm through his shirt.

Feeling his heartbeat pick up, Chikara wished he'd carried on writing in his notebook and refused the Twix.

If he had too much on this week to be doing a speed awareness course, he was definitely too busy to be indulging in chocolate – or whatever else this was.

–

He missed most of the next hour of advice on keeping within the speed limit, worrying as he was about his own limitations.

This really was like being back at school, only this time it was the bits Chikara would rather not remember; wondering whether to say something to someone. At school, he'd had the luxury of seeing them week in, week out (and still never saying anything but that was beside the point).

Even after school, he hadn't been any good at asking for a phone number, never mind flirting. He was only ever any good at meeting people through dating sites because it was obvious why they were both there. He didn't mind the mystery being taken away, it made things more predictable.

What was the etiquette here? They'd already been told, right at the start, that if they were to see anyone they recognised after the course, perhaps in a shop or on the street, they shouldn't mention where they'd met. He definitely sympathised with that, he didn't want everyone to know he'd got a speeding ticket.

So, what  _do_ you do when you meet someone randomly? Chikara had never known, but it had never really been a problem before. Then again, if you'd told him two hours ago he'd be wondering how to ask for the number of the nobhead in the yellow car driving behind him, he'd have laughed in your face.

He wasn't wearing a ring. That was something.

“Chikara?”

Yuuji was looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer to a question he hadn't heard. “Huh?”

“Want to partner up?”

His face flushed too quickly, and he knew he was bright red before realising they were doing some kind of group work and Yuuji needed a partner for that. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, so, they're going to show a video, and I have to commentate on what I see, and each hazard you make a mark on here. See how many hazards we can spot. Alright?” He turned in his chair towards the front slightly, and nodded back to Chikara. “This alright? I need to see the screen, but you need to hear me so...”

The sound in the room was slightly past his comfort zone; he didn't need to watch the screen, but if he kept his eyes on Yuuji's mouth moving, he could hear him well enough.

“Right! So zebra crossing, junction...” _He's got a nice voice when he's not as loud..._ “Van there, not sure where he's going...” _He's missed a bit of stubble on his top lip there. His hair's dark naturally I think..._ “Kid there might run out, another junction...” _Definitely dark, can see at the side..._ “That car's parked like a twat...” _Is that a... stud in his tongue..._

“Okay everyone! So...count up on your tables, see who got the most and least,” the taller of the two men at the front was saying, and Chikara realised he hadn't counted what Yuuji had said properly, but instead had made a mark every time he started talking.

“How many did I see?” he asked, like an excited child.

“Urm...twelve?”

“That all? Felt like more than that.” There was no recrimination as he asked, “Did you miss some of what I said, Chikara?”

“You talk very fast.”

“I think you were distracted,” Yuuji said, crossing his legs and leaning back. His arm brushed against Chikara's again as he said over his shoulder, “What d'ya say, hmm?”

“What about everyone else?” Chikara asked the rest of the table, ignoring the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he was being flirted with.

“Twenty-three over here.”

“Twenty for us.”

“Ah, we lost.” Yuuji poked Chikara's upper arm. “That's your fault, you owe me.”

_Let me take you for a drink to make it up to you,_ he did not say. 

And so, he missed the perfect opportunity during the last piece of group work for the day, and spent the rest of it cursing himself and sulking.

–

“We started a bit early, so we're finished early! If anyone has any questions, feel free to ask, although I'm sure you'd probably all prefer it if I tell you we'll be sticking around for a while if anyone wants to ask us anything afterwards.” The two presenters gathered the worksheets, and with that the course was over.

Chikara's phone told him it was just after half past four; he packed his belongings back into his bag, frustrated at the blank page as he closed his notebook. Four hours had sounded a lot when he arrived, but it had vanished in a blur of blonde hair, grinning and shared chocolate biscuits.

He felt something on his arm and looked up to see everyone else had gone from the table, only Yuuji remained, a warm hand against his skin.

“Nice meeting you. Hopefully we won't both turn up at one of these in three years, eh?”

“Hopefully. Drive safe,” he added, trying to make a joke, before realising how weird it sounded saying that to a virtual stranger.

“Pretty sure I will be, at least for a while.” He pulled his cap back on and started walking away, before turning back. “Maybe I'll get caught on purpose if it's always...never mind. Later.” Yuuji walked through the door holding a hand aloft as he did so.

Chikara had no choice but to watch him leave, then hung around until he was sure the yellow car would be gone.

The man with ginger hair (who'd talked to them about speed cameras, he couldn't remember their names) came over as he waited. “You're Chikara? Was everything okay?”

He'd forgotten about the box he had to tick on the booking form, and at first had no idea why he'd been singled out. He felt ridiculous when he remembered. “Oh! Yes, thanks.”

“Nothing wrong?” It was only then he realised the men must have been wondering why he was still in the room, possibly expecting them to clarify something, or perhaps even complain.

“It was absolutely fine. I'll get off now. Thanks again.”

He found his way through the mess of scaffolding in the hallway, past the vending machine where the Twix must have come from. The table covered in leaflets advertising events sitting near the door reminded him he was going to talk to the manager, until the sliver of light from the ajar door caught his eye; through it he could see a profile of a man, the peak of his hat casting a shadow on his face, trainers so bright they almost glowed in the late evening sun.

“Hey,” Chikara said as he left the building and walked towards Yuuji.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, falling into step alongside Chikara as they walked towards their cars.

“I can find my car myself, you know.” He tried to sound annoyed, but it came out somewhere between delight and embarrassment instead.

“I know, but...” He stopped dead in his tracks with an melodramatic grunt. “God! Why is this so hard?”

“What?” Chikara hoped he knew what Yuuji was finding hard, but didn't want to assume in case it was too good to be true.

“You, Chikara whatever-your-name-is, are a bloody tease,” Yuuji said loudly, poking him in the shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean. I've been flirting with you since I met you. I even bought you a Twix!”

“Of course,” Chikara said as he leant backwards against his car, “The international symbol of 'I'm interested in seeing you again'.”

Yuuji moved forward, lifting his arm, but instead of poking Chikara's shoulder again, he rested a hand gently on it. “You're the one who was staring at my mouth the whole time.”

“Can't really help that.”

“You want to come for a drink with me and do it some more?”

“That's the worst chat-up line I've ever heard,” he said, walking off towards the pub with Yuuji in tow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might write more for this? I'm not sure. There's something I might want to develop in this fic, but I'll have to see.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for uploading the wrong version of this chapter. Here's the proper one, with all the actual words in it.

The pub wasn't one Chikara had ever been inside, but he'd seen it a few times as he drove past. It was bog standard pub decor; worn, patterned carpet, dark wood tables and chairs, three regulars resolutely ignoring anything except the foam on their pint.

He chose a seat by the window while Yuuji fetched them a couple of soft drinks. Chikara thought it was a pity he was driving, he felt like he could really use something stronger. He still wasn't sure how this situation had come to be, but he wasn't too bothered about it. It was a while since he'd been on anything even akin to a date, and there were definitely worse people to be out for a drink with.

Yuuji seemed okay, despite his initial impressions of him. He was obviously someone you couldn't judge on appearances. Not only was he ridiculously attractive (particularly as soon as he was away from the car and without his hat on) everything seemed effortless for him, even making conversation with the barman who he'd never met before.

Things seemed easy for him, and yet, asking for Chikara's phone number had made him nervous. He didn't want to admit how happy it made him that he unnerved someone so sure of himself.

“Should I sit here?” Yuuji asked as he returned and pulled the chair out on the opposite side of the table.

“Yeah, that's fine.” He took the lemonade with a nod of thanks, and the question he was most desperate to know the answer to bubbled up and forced its way out. “Are you not going to ask me about it?”

“Nope.”

“But. Why not?”

“Might as well ask _why?_ ” He took a drink of cola, before quickly adding, “It's not that I don't care, by the way.”

“Okay.” Chikara had never met anyone who hadn't asked him about his deafness as soon as they met him. If they didn't ask immediately, it was because they hadn't noticed his hearing aids, and then as soon as they _did_ see them, they asked. That was all that had ever happened in his life. But Yuuji had definitely clocked them, he had to have done to adjust his behaviour to accommodate Chikara.

“I figured, if you want to tell me, you will. Otherwise...” he said, finishing with a shrug.

“You'll probably be more curious later. In fact, I pretty much guarantee it.”

“Why's that?”

“Well, we'll probably talk about what we do for a living later on.”

At this Yuuji leaned forward onto the table and propped his chin on his hands. “Ooooooh, interesting. Okay, shoot.”

“You first.”

“Okay,” he said, sitting back in his seat and taking a drink, “I'm a Youth Worker.”

This didn't surprise Chikara in the slightest; from his ability to get along with everyone he met to his obviously caring nature, as well as his loud demeanour and the way he noticed tiny details. “Whereabouts?”

“Small club just outside town. It's mainly to keep them off the streets, quite a poor area.”

There was a kind, quiet look in his eyes that Chikara hadn't seen yet, one that gave him a warmth he hadn't felt in a while. “You enjoy it.” It was a statement not a question.

“Yeah, I love it.” He cleared his throat, and the brasher Yuuji returned. “Your turn,” he said, leaning back on the table.

Chikara sighed. This would make Yuuji crack. Every time he said this to anyone, he got the same reaction. He took a slow sip of lemonade, a deep breath, and said “I'm a DJ.”

“Fantastic!”

Chikara waited for it. The 'wow-how-can-you-do-that-being-deaf' and the 'don't-you-need-to-hear-the-music' that always followed this revelation.

“Honestly, this is amazing.”

“I'm not amazing...”

But Yuuji wasn't listening. “I've been looking for a DJ who might help me out for  _months_ . This is fate, dude!”

“Huh?” Something else that Chikara hadn't expected. This was becoming a habit.

“There's a suggestion box at work, and learning to DJ is _always_ the most requested thing. I've never found anyone who would.”

Chikara choked on his drink. “And what makes you think  _I_ will?”

He shrugged again. “Dunno. You're a nice bloke? I'll pay you...”

“That's not the problem! I'm not big on children...”

“These are teenagers! Fifteen, sixteen. And they're good kids.” Yuuji sat back again, looking at Chikara for a beat. It didn't seem like a challenge, but Chikara didn't look away, merely raised his eyebrows and waited. “Look,” Yuuji finally continued, “Come along and see what you think before you decide.”

It would be so easy to agree immediately. It was a reasonable request, he needed the work, and it sounded like there were no strings attached.

Except there were, huge strings, twisting in different directions and becoming tangled; with every minute of conversation he was getting more and more knotted up in this riddle, and agreeing would only pull the strings tighter until unwrapping himself might never be possible.

“Would you buy me dinner afterwards?” Chikara heard himself say and wondered where the courage came from.

“Well. It's an after-school club, so maybe lunch beforehand? I dunno. Whatever gets you to say yes, to be honest.”

An after-school club was better timing. An evening thing might interfere with his regular gigs. It was becoming harder to say no. “You're that desperate for a DJ?”

“No,” Yuuji was leaning forwards on the table again, smirking, “Well. Not for a DJ...”

Holy shit. “What day?” he said, trying to hide the tremble in his voice.

The smirk couldn't hide the fact Yuuji knew he'd won, and Chikara hated himself a little. “Any day you like.” Yuuji caught his bottom lip under his teeth. “Let's swap numbers and sort it out when I've got the work calendar in front of me.”

“Of course.” So Yuuji was nervous too, underneath it all. Cute. Chikara checked the time on his phone and sighed. “I have to go. I've got a thing.” He dug into his coat pocket for a card and passed it over to Yuuji. “Call me, so I have your number.”

“Will do.” Yuuji saluted with the business card, and Chikara shook his head and left.

He was in the middle of opening his car door when he felt the vibration of his phone. He frowned at the unknown number and answered in a professional tone. “Ennoshita speaking?”

“Now you got my number!” came a loud voice from the speaker. Chikara looked back again at the pub to see Yuuji through the window, one hand holding his phone to his ear, and the other held in a peace sign. “See you!”

“I certainly hope so,” he said as he hung up, and programmed the new number in as 'Yuuji the nobhead'.  
  


 


	3. Chapter 3

The sunlight streaming through the window reflects off something on the bedside table, the foreign nature of it drawing Yuuji's eye; a pair of glasses folded neatly next to something small, grey and curved. The light and Yuuji's eyes continue their journey, resting eventually on a shiny, black head of hair, its owner turned away from him. Even so, his chest constricts with a stutter, curving his mouth softly.

In less than a week he's gone from not knowing someone to feeling an insatiable need to be near them, and if he's being totally honest, it terrifies and excites him in equal measure.

People had told him love at first sight existed, and while it was a nice idea, he never believed them for one minute. If you'd asked him last week, he'd have told you he believed instead in karma, rather than anything else; good things happened to good people, bad people got their just desserts, and you could change your life if you were in the right place, at the right time.

When the speeding ticket arrived in the post, he knew it was karma; but then once the course was completed, he'd decided it must actually be his reward for turning his life around. He'd worked hard, but even so it probably wasn't long enough for such a pay-off. Chikara was worth a lot more than three years graft.

And yet...here he is, sleeping in Chikara's bed. It only makes sense if he's some kind of gift from the universe.

Yuuji shuffles a little closer – he'd say he was trying not to wake him up, but that would be an outright lie – and presses his forehead against the nape of Chikara's neck. A tiny groan escapes Chikara, although he doesn't stir completely.

“Chika?” Yuuji asks, circling his arms around Chikara's waist and pulling himself flush against him. 

Chikara grumbles a bit, but he doesn't pull away. “I am  _not_ a morning person,” he turns to the side to say, before burrowing his head back into the pillow. “You should be aware of this if we're going to spend any more time together.”

“I just wanted to check you were real,” Yuuji says into the side of Chikara's neck.

“You're ridiculous.” The fondness in his voice makes Yuuji's heart pound against their joined skin; he tries hard to fall asleep again, but the day before replays in his head instead, as he tries to make sense of how this happened.

– * –

After Chikara left the pub, Yuuji stayed at the table to get his breath back. Somehow the effort of pretending everything was normal had exhausted him. His mask had almost slipped when he'd talked about work, and then again when he'd wanted his phone number – he was so desperate at that point not to have him walk away that Chikara must have smelled it on him – but he'd managed to score a chance to see him again, despite all of that.

The next day he'd texted as soon as he arrived at work with a hopeful suggestion of the following day, thinking he'd be shot down. But somehow, Chikara was free and agreed to meet him for lunch at the same pub.

The same barman was there, recognised him from the last time, and Yuuji chose the same table. He watched the Audi through the window when it pulled into the car park, and when Chikara emerged, there was a twitch in his stomach that made Yuuji suck in a sharp breath.

He hadn't imagined the effect Chikara had on him, and, if anything, it had gotten worse over the last couple of days.

“Hey!” he said as brightly as possible as Chikara walked in, unsure how else to greet him enthusiastically enough, while still being socially acceptable.

“Hi.” His hand raised slightly, as did the corners of his mouth, and Yuuji's spirits.

It was a pleasant enough lunch date; Yuuji kept his word and paid for the sandwiches, as well as getting a portion of chips to share. He was glad Chikara had as much of an appetite as him so they were finished quickly and could get to know each other better.

As it was a business lunch, Yuuji thought it only right to talk about Chikara's work; it wasn't his fault that this meant they would have to talk about films as well as music, or that this led to a long discussion about the Bladerunner sequel that made Yuuji almost late for work.

After checking with the barman that he could leave his car behind, Chikara accepted the suggestion of a lift in the yellow Golf.

“Even though we're running late, please don't get another ticket,” Chikara teased as he put on his seatbelt.

Yuuji dropped his sunglasses on, keeping his eyes on Chikara, and revved the engine; Chikara tutted and rolled his eyes in response. Laughing, Yuuji put the stereo on, and Chikara found the speaker on the door and rested his hand on it.

“Deadmau5?” he asked after a couple of minutes.

“Maybe,” Yuuji shrugged, “I don't really know. I just listen to whatever comes on.” He bobbed his head from side to side as he spoke, and tapped his fingers over the steering wheel.

“You must have a preference?”

He shrugged again. “I like anything good.”

“That narrows it down.”

The music only changed once on the short drive, Yuuji not recognising the second track either. “I don't like it anyway, I don't care what it is.”

“It's Aphex Twin.”

“It's shit is what it is,” he said as he flicked the stereo off. “We're here anyway.”

Pete, the gardener, had obviously done his rounds, the smell of fresh grass snook through the crack in the car's window. Behind the freshly trimmed conifers, the familiar brown, yellow and grey tiles brightened the building's facade further. He pulled the handbrake on and turned to Chikara, who was already watching him; between his presence and being able to share the youth club with him, Yuuji's day was turning out to be pretty good.

“Alright?”

Chikara was biting the inside of his bottom lip, and didn't answer immediately. Yuuji waited, making himself look busy by closing the windows and putting his sunglasses in the glove compartment; he was used to being patient, as well as reading facial expressions, from working with the more surly of the kids.

“You don't have to talk or anything. Unless you want to. An' I'll be there the whole time. Nothing to worry about. Right?” He stretched out his hand, hesitantly, hovering over Chikara's for a second before he let it fall the last inch, feeling his skin beneath his for the first time that day.

“I'm not worried about that,” Chikara said quietly, “What's bothering me is...that I'm _not_ nervous. Not at all.”

“That's the very opposite of a problem,” Yuuji laughed

“I usually would be, though. Meeting new people or going somewhere new. It always gets to me the first time. Their reactions, and the questions, how they'll treat me.” He turned his hand, lacing his fingers with Yuuji's. “But right now, I'm not nervous. Not about going in there, anyway.”

The blood thrummed in Yuuji's ears; Chikara absent-mindedly rubbed his thumb against Yuuji's palm and it felt like a match striking the strip, a spark flying. He cleared his throat, but his voice still cracked when he spoke. “So...let's go inside then.”

“Just a bit longer,” Chikara said quietly, lifting Yuuji's hand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles; the flame burst to life, using up all the oxygen in his chest.

*

There were three members of the club who Yuuji knew would crowd around Chikara immediately. Even though the suggestions for DJ lessons were anonymous, it was obvious who wanted them the most. Sure enough, as soon as he finished telling the group who the stranger joining them was, they were up and asking him questions.

As he was considering whether to say anything about the way they were talking, Chikara spoke up. “Could you try to speak one at a time? I have trouble hearing.”

The three of them didn't miss a beat as they changed their behaviour instantly, speaking in turn. They'd already been loud enough, but still increased their volume anyway.

Yuuji went to find Sean, noticeably absent, and eventually tracked him down to the pool room. He walked over and tapped the table to get his attention. “Hey, Sean. You wanna come meet my friend?”

“Okay,” Sean agreed immediately giving his cue to someone else.

As they walked, Yuuji told him about Chikara. “He's like you, so I thought you'd like to meet him before he goes.”

“Righto.”

It wasn't right to have favourites as a Youth Worker, but it was impossible some days not to. A short, skinny thirteen year old with glasses, Sean had been coming to Blaze since he moved schools and his form teacher suggested he did. He was amiable, and it took a while for Yuuji to understand why he was even there; until the first time he was a little too amiable and got taken advantage of by the older kids. Thankfully, Yuuji caught him before they persuaded him to actually jump from the window to the tree, but it was close.

Since then, he'd made it a personal crusade to build his confidence so he was able to say no. The fact he wore hearing aids was really nothing to do with it. He was just too nice a child, too eager to please, and with no sense of danger – a terrible combination, and one which Yuuji sympathised with a bit too much.

By the time they returned to the main room, Yuuji expected Chikara to be sitting alone while the other three were back to messing about with whatever they could find hanging around; instead, they were all still sitting at the table, only now they'd been joined by four others. One of them had got them paper from somewhere, and they were all making notes; everyone was talking animatedly, expect for Chikara, who was nodding to himself as he wrote.

Sean went over by himself without encouragement. Yuuji watched one of them pass him a pencil, Chikara spoke to him for a couple of minutes, and then they were all back to chatting and writing. He had no idea what they'd been tasked with, but he didn't much care. They were enjoying whatever it was, and Chikara seemed comfortable.

Whatever tale Chikara had been listening to reached its peak and an unrestrained smile squeezed his eyes closed and showed his teeth. Yuuji watched him, and eventually Chikara noticed; his smile toned down slightly, a blush blooming on his cheeks, and Yuuji knew he was definitely in trouble.

At the end of his shift, Chikara was still there; as time wore on, it became pointless for him to go anywhere else when his set for the evening was in the city centre, much closer than going back to get his car. Instead, he hung around in an empty office and did last minute preparations for the evening. Yuuji had no idea what preparations were required of a DJ, but he had other things he needed to do (even though he was secretly pleased his workplace was so close to the centre).

It still wasn't quite close enough to walk, and when Yuuji offered Chikara a lift back to the car park to fetch his car, he was surprised to be turned down. The disappointment quickly turned to delight when he suggested instead that Yuuji join him for the evening at the venue.

“Of course, that means we'll need to go for dinner together first,” Yuuji said after agreeing, as they walked to his car. “You need sustenance to work, and I'll need it for dancing.”

“It's not really that kind of set. I'm in the backroom.”

“So what kind of set _is_ it then?”

Chikara sighed and opened the passenger door. “I'll tell you over dinner.”

*

A small family owned Italian restaurant, in the middle of a crumbling bridge, Viva was one of Yuuji's favourite haunts.

“I'm so happy you like Italian food.” He waved at the homeless man on the bench outside, who waved back, then held the door open for Chikara to go through first.

“Who doesn't like Italian food?”

“I know, right?” The staff brightly greeted him, a couple using his name, before hanging up their jackets. The front always made the place look smaller than it was – like most businesses in the city, it went further back into the mesh of buildings behind – and always hid how pleasant it was inside. Fresh mint walls, covered in framed pictures of varying sizes, neat tables with cloth coverings and vases filled with roses.

Although Chikara wasn't sure what to order, he ignored Yuuji's suggestions, much to his dissatisfaction; he'd hoped if he could persuade Chikara to order something he liked, they could go halves, but apparently he was the kind of person who would choose vegetarian pasta when there was pizza on offer.

“It's not boring, I like spinach tortellini,” Chikara said, tucking his bag safely under his chair.

“But _pizza!_ ” Yuuji watched his hands as he spread them out in a circle in front of him to emphasise what Chikara would be missing. “They do really fucking good pizza here. You'll regret it.”

“So you keep saying.”

“You're not having any of mine! Just 'cause we're on a date...” He stopped himself short and snapped his head up. “Not that this is a date! Unless you...” He ran his fingers through his hair and cursed under his breath. “Shit, I didn't mean...”

Chikara lifted his glass of water and took a sip, waiting for Yuuji to look up again; when he did, Chikara held his eye and quietly said, “This can be a date. At least. I'd like it to be, so if you do too, then?”

“Then it's a date.” He placed his hand on top of Chikara's where it rested on the table. “But you're still not getting any of my pizza.”

*

_Antipasto_

It wasn't often Yuuji ordered a starter. Dessert, always, but usually he just wanted to get onto eating pizza. Today, though, the presence of an extra course would mean more time with Chikara, so he ordered a tomato and mozzarella salad. It came so quickly they were both still talking about other restaurants and pointing out artwork to each other.

Yuuji put his plate in the centre of the table and invited Chikara to dig in; his plate of dough balls was set next to the salad with a similar offer.

“Did you enjoy today?” Yuuji asked him as they ate.

“Yeah! You were right, they're good kids.”

“What were you doing with them?”

Chikara had finally finished picking his dough ball apart and was chewing it, so they waited until he swallowed. “I got them to make a list of feelings and then they all tried to find songs to match.”

“Cool! They get on alright?” Yuuji asked through a mouthful of basil.

“I didn't know what any of the songs were, but that's fine, it wasn't about me.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, Chikara poking salad onto his fork, and Yuuji starting on the dough balls. He had something he really wanted to know, but he wasn't sure how Chikara would take it. Every other question had been fine, he was open and happy to talk, but Yuuji desperately didn't want to make him feel like he was gawking at a novelty.

“So, is that, urm, how you DJ?” seemed an innocuous enough question.

“It depends where I'm working?”

Yuuji sighed a little. He'd been too subtle, and it was too late now. “How about tonight?”

“You'll see later.” He bit into another dough ball, and that, apparently was that. “You still want me to do a workshop?”

“If you want to do one?” He tried to sound nonchalant as he pushed his fork into the remains of the salad, before dropping it. Even though he was delighted this was a date, that didn't guarantee he'd see him again.

“I do. They're more willing than I expected. I had some ideas.”

“Is that what you were writing?”

He nodded, and pointed his fork at the plate of salad. “Can I have the last bit of mozzarella?”

“Yeah, sure!”

“You can have the last dough ball,” Chikara said, as it was already halfway towards Yuuji's mouth.

  
  


_Primo_

To fit the enormous wooden pizza board on the table, they had to shuffle everything around. Chikara's pasta bowl looked tiny next to it, and Yuuji started to feel a bit sorry for him before remembering he'd had the same chance to order pizza.

He was still cutting his pizza, rectangular and the size of a skateboard, into thin strips when Chikara spoke. “So, how long have you worked at...Blaze, is it?”

“Urm...three years, paid. I volunteered before that.” He frowned as he chased the pizza to stop it falling on the table.

Chikara watched him, vaguely smiling, before asking, “Oh? Through a scheme.”

“Could say that. Court ordered community service.”

The smile was no longer faint, and Chikara snorted a little. “What'd you do?”

“Have a guess.”

“Something to do with driving?”

“Bingo!” Yuuji pointed at Chikara, who pointed back with his fork. “Two dangerous driving offences. I was a proper dickhead, I'm not proud of it. Couldn't drive for six months, had to do two hundred hours community service. Ended up being the best thing ever for me. I don't take driving for granted any more, and I found what I want to do with my life. I felt so sick when the speeding ticket arrived, was really grateful they offered the course. Could have been a permanent ban if I was going faster. Never again.” He suddenly realised he'd been talking for a while and waving his arms around, while Chikara was focused on his food. “Sorry, I'm rambling.”

“It's fine. I wanted to eat this before it went cold anyway.” Chikara was still smiling as he carried on eating, and Yuuji had to tear his gaze away back to his own food.

“I'd better eat mine!” He took a huge bite, chewing enthusiastically, complete with comical mmm noises. “Dude, this is delicious, you sure you don't want a slice?”

“I thought I wasn't allowed?”

“Yeah, but,” The pizza was not only bigger than he remembered, sharing the starters was so...nice. Comfortable. He wanted more of that. “I feel like you're missing out.”

“Cajun chicken and pineapple? Urm, no thanks.” He looked at Yuuji's plate in mild disgust, before pointing at his bowl. “Do you want to try the pasta?”

“Would I like it?”

“How should I know? It's delicious, but you have fruit on your pizza. With olives. Who knows what's going on with your taste buds.” He loaded his fork with two parcels, and held it out. “Try it.”

Yuuji leant forwards and closed his mouth around the end of the fork. Chikara twitched backwards a small amount, eyes widening, before withdrawing the fork and placing it on the table. As he chewed the pasta, Yuuji noticed Chikara looking at his plate, shifting uncomfortably. He suddenly realised Chikara probably meant for him to take the fork from him to eat, and he felt the hot touch of guilt on the back of his neck. He hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable or insult him.

“Sorry! It's, urm, nice? Bit 'green'.” He picked up a piece of his pizza and held it out, an olive branch (with pineapple). “Here, try this.”

Chikara rolled his eyes. “You are not feeding me your terrible pizza, Yuuji,” he said, a blush creeping across his face, as he picked up his fork and resumed eating.

  
  


_Dolce_

While they waited for dessert, Chikara's hand had crept across the table, and Yuuji had done nothing to discourage it. His skin was colder than his own, and his slender fingers, always fidgeting, continued to do so even when holding Yuuji's hand. When he crossed one leg over the other, it brushed against Chikara, who pressed back in reply; a date hadn't gone this well in years, and was going so well he was furious when the dessert showed up.

After one bite, Yuuji asked, “Are you going to tell me about tonight?”

“You're so impatient!” Chikara shook his head, “You'll see when you get there.”

His spoon clattered as he put it down. Chikara was right, he was losing patience a little. “I'm just so curious about how you're gonna DJ!”

Yuuji was kicked under the table, and looked up to see Chikara pointing a spoon at him again. “I _knew_ you'd crack eventually.”

“Well, I mean.” He felt caught out, but knew there was no point lying. “I don't know how much hearing you have, really, so I don't know what to expect.”

“I have hardly any hearing without the aids. They help a lot, but it's still not within normal range. I don't wear them to DJ anyway.”

“Now I'm even more curious, that didn't help at all!”

“It would injure my ears if I wore them,” Chikara said, matter-of-factly.

“So how...” His voice was becoming a whine.

“Let me just show you. It's easier to explain in person.”

“You're such a tease.” Yuuji knew instinctively that now was the time to stop. “How's your gelato?”

“I don't know why I got a dessert.” The gelato remained half finished, the napkin dropped into it to show he was done. “I always do this. I should just order another starter and be done with it. How's your...what is that?”

“Zabaglione. It's...” Yuuji looked at the bowl of pale brown custard, with a tinge of sherry, creamy and rich and full of vanilla. “It doesn't look like much, but...” He dipped in the amaretti biscuit which accompanied the brandy glass; the two textures and flavours were polar opposites – one crisp and sweet, short to snap, the other fluid and accommodating, with hidden depths – but they worked so well together. “It's the best thing I've ever eaten in my life.”

“I'm really glad you brought me here.”

As they'd both finished, he took Chikara's hand again, this time using both hands to completely surround it. “I'm glad you decided it's a date.”

*

They walked to the venue, down the road and up a couple of flights of stairs, their hands parting only when they got to the top. The exposed brickwork spread halfway down all the walls, the rest clad in wooden slats, a surface out at right angles, and high stools sitting beneath. Everything had a pink glow from the lighting, except for the bar area which was bathed in blue from a large neon sign hanging behind it.

Yuuji was trying to take everything in, but Chikara was guiding him into another room. He leant and spoke into his ear, “I'm in the other room, this one is for dancing.”

A shiver ran down Yuuji's spine, growing from the soft breath against him and making his shoulder twitch upwards. He nodded and stumbled behind Chikara into a darker room; the walls here were grey, with a DJ booth behind a counter instead of a bar.

Chikara hung up his coat and bag, inviting Yuuji to do the same, and then began taking his hearing aids out. “I don't usually bring anyone with me for this. If I'm going to hear you, you have to make sure I can see your face now these are out.”

The array of screens and buttons behind the bar was bewildering to Yuuji, but Chikara started turning dials immediately, and plugging a device from his pocket into a jack lead. Another item followed behind, with the appearance of a weight lifters belt. Chikara held it up so it dangled and fixed Yuuji with an impish face. “ _This_ is how I DJ.”

“What is it?”

Chikara strapped it across his chest diagonally over one shoulder, a chunky circular box landing centrally to his chest. The anticipation was too much for Yuuji; it was driving him mad not knowing what was going on, but Chikara had requested patience, and even seemed to be enjoying the anticipation. “So, this is a woojer. It connects by bluetooth and transforms music with haptic technology. Basically, it vibrates and means I can feel it.”

“I don't really understand.”

“You know when you see a live band, and it kind of vibrates through your legs and chest? It feels really intense? Well, that's how I hear music, through the...resonance. I can kind of hear it, through my ears, but I hear it more,” he tapped against his chest as he spoke, “Right here.” He gestured at the screens. “And then here, the soundwaves get displayed, so I can beat match and sequence everything. DJ-ing is about reading the crowd, creating an atmosphere.” He looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm pretty good at that.”

It was the most he'd heard him say so far, and Yuuji was trapped between wanting to show how impressed he was and not wanting to be patronising, so in the end he decided to just say, “Cool.”

“You don't have to know how it works, it just does. I won't be showing the kids at the club all this. I'll have a simpler set-up, with less mixers and Serato.”

“Oh, of course,” Yuuji said, with no idea of what was going on.

“Could you get us both a drink, maybe? While I finish setting up?”

Gobsmacked but definitely thirsty, he went to fetch something. By the time he returned, Chikara had one side of his headphones pressed against an ear and had started playing music. He saw Yuuji come back and beckoned him behind the counter.

Chikara seemed happy enough with everything, and put the headphones down, concentrating on the screen instead. Watching him working, it was obvious he was intelligent, with a huge capacity for multi-tasking; his hands moved as if on auto-pilot, eyes flicking across the equipment at speed.

Yuuji tried to stop watching him and concentrate on the music. The bass was low and insistent, and even without a device strapped to him, he could feel it in his legs and rumbling through his torso. A soft high voice cut through the layers of instrumentation, singing something in French. As it built, he saw Chikara's mouth move along with the words, perfectly in sync.

The chorus began in earnest, and the bass reverberated. Chikara turned and grabbed for Yuuji's hand, and brought it to his chest, pressing it against the circular box.

The sound vibrated through the box, also in sync, and Chikara's fingers moved against the back of his hand, slightly cold still. Yuuji watched as they tapped, his heart beating as insistently as the bass, but much faster and more irregularly.

He knew Chikara had been looking at him the whole time to gage his reaction but hadn't trusted himself to look up. They were standing ridiculously close together, skin touching, and Yuuji felt like he was on fire.

Eventually he allowed his head to move, and locked eyes with Chikara, watching him and nodding his head in time with his tapping finger, smiling questioningly. “Do you get it?” he seemed to be asking, “Can you feel it the way I can?”

And he could.

He could feel everything in that moment, swelling in his chest like the bubbling of the string instruments growing louder in the backing track.

There was no way he was waiting any longer – he'd been patient long enough.

With the hand against Chikara's chest, he pushed gently, making him stand up. Yuuji expected to see confusion, but there was none; his eyelids were heavy, mouth softly parted, his hand creeping up to rest on the side of Yuuji's face, both primed for what was coming next.

He tilted his head and closed the last inch between them, meeting Chikara halfway.

 

-*-

 

Sometimes a day is so terrible, it never seems to end – and then another day is so fantastic, it's over before you know it.

On a rare and wonderful occasion, you get the best of both worlds. A day is both incredible and never-ending; at the end of it you smile at each other and say, “How was _that_ only this morning?”

Outside Chikara's house, at close to midnight, Yuuji started to say these words, but had them kissed away from him before he'd finished.

Chikara moved away, but was still so close, Yuuji could see a small cluster of freckles under one eyebrow. When he pressed his lips to them, Chikara closed his eyes and moved back in to nudge his face back upwards.

“Let's not pretend I'm going home,” Yuuji said softly into Chikara's cheek.

The two of them carried on kissing, wedged into the front seats, until they realised amid peals of laughter that it was warmer and more comfortable inside the house. They made their way inside, arms around each other, to put an end to the day.

Sometimes, one day changes everything – but Yuuji thought that drawing attention to it was pointless.

  
  


  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This playlist is the kind of things Chikara would play - they all have kind of background noises or samples, a lot of scratching, and most importantly a good bassline - he would whack up the bass when playing, and probably throw in his own samples from films. I made the list shorter and themed it as 90s, so he would run a 90s night, OR the whole thing is set in the 90s, which someone mentioned.
> 
> Here's the [Woojer](https://www.woojer.com/) if you want to see it.


End file.
